


Distance

by LIGHTSJOON



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Unrequited Crush, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22248859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LIGHTSJOON/pseuds/LIGHTSJOON
Summary: Friendship can be hard to maintain when you're in love with your best friend.
Relationships: Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 87





	Distance

It was puzzlingly warm for an afternoon in the height of winter, and Jeonghan promised to make the most of it as he and Joshua stepped out of their afternoon lecture hall. He knew that Joshua could stand the cold, yet he found himself staring as his friend stripped his padded coat from his body, draping it over his left arm as they pushed further into the chilled air. Deep gray, heavy clouds loomed in the distance, even though the forecast hadn’t predicted rain, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but sigh at the mere possibility that it would rain later in the evening. 

Although it was a warmer day than the day prior, Jeonghan was still able to see the shallow puffs of steam that filled the air around Joshua as he exhaled with each step. Both of them taking short and shallow gulps of the crisp air as they made their way up the steep hill towards the cafeteria. 

“Do you have class this evening?” Joshua’s voice was calm and steady—and a bit of something else that he couldn’t quite decipher—despite the effort he knew they were both putting into climbing up the staircase. 

Jeonghan took a deep breath, fingers closing around the rechargeable hand warmers in his pockets, ones that Joshua had bought for him at the beginning of the precious winter, which were most likely purchased to lessen his constant whining and griping about how he felt like his fingers were going to fall off. 

“I’m hoping it’ll get cancelled, but as of right now class is still on,” he replied as he reached for the door, pulling the handle just enough to let Joshua slip inside before following suit.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but notice how the dining hall seemed a lot busier than usual; he felt suffocated by the staggering intensity of the heat radiating off of the number of bodies that filled the large space. He and Joshua scanned the menu items that never appeared to change. He wasn’t even sure as to why they were taking the time to look at the menu when they always got the same thing every time they decide to splurge and eat lunch in the dining hall. It never failed that he would get the same pasta dish—which would continue to further negate the diet he told himself he would stick to this year—while Joshua would get a chicken tender basket with french fries. No ketchup, which Jeonghan always found laughable. 

Once they ordered, it was the fight to find some place to sit. Jeonghan could see his friend contemplating a seat outside, but Joshua knew that he would rather sit next to a bunch of strangers than sit outside in the cold. He took one more scan of the room when his eyes befell a familiar face.

“Oh!” Jeonghan exclaimed as his hand wrapped around the warmth of Joshua’s thin forearm, “Look, there’s Seokmin. Let’s go sit with him.”

Without even giving him time to think, Jeonghan was dragging Joshua across the room to where Seokmin sat with his eyes glued to his computer screen. Their classmate, and long time friend, jumped in surprise as they plopped their number stands down onto the table. 

“I thought you guys were in class,” Seokmin commented as he pulled an earbud from his left ear. 

“You mean the class you were  _ also _ supposed to be in?” Jeonghan shot back as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the width of the chair. 

As Seokmin’s face crinkled with recognition of the truth, the irresistible and contagious sound of Joshua’s laugh filled his ears. Jeonghan couldn’t help but side glance in his direction. 

Seokmin crossed his arms on the edge of the table, stating matter-of-factly, “Sometimes you need to skip a class to prioritize another class.”

“Ah,” Joshua sighed, “The true reality that all college students face at least twice in their college careers.”

Seokmin and Joshua continued with the aimless bantering, but Jeonghan had checked out of the conversation. He suddenly felt sleepy, his attention locked on the last of the swaying leaves that had been too stubborn to fall. His breathing steadied and began to feel heavy in his chest and shoulders; he felt secure and comforted knowing that he could hear Joshua’s voice drowning out the rest of the cafeteria chatter.

He was only brought back to reality at the sight of his food being set in front of him just moments later. Yet, the happiness that engulfed him at the sight of food was completely negated by the sudden flutter he felt in his stomach when Joshua stretched his arm across the back of his own chair, the tips of his fingers lightly resting just under his shoulder. He was vaguely aware of the fact that the muscles in his back tightened ever so slightly, whether Joshua noticed or not, he hadn’t made it known. 

Jeonghan knew he was treading in dangerous territory. He knew he should have leaned forward, taken a bite of his food, should have done something to inch away from that touch, but he was anchored there; being held down by the weight of that one-sided love he’d kept tucked away in the shadows for  _ years _ . And now all of those secrets, which he invested so much time trying to protect, threatened to crumbed in a matter of seconds as his heart hammered away in his chest.

He straightened his back, lifting a fork that was overfilled with pasta to his mouth, and, in one bite, proceeded to eat more food than he could handle. Little did he know that his choice to distract him would only backfire. 

Joshua leaned forward, laying his hand flat on his back, voice thick with concern, “Jeonghan, slow down. The food’s not going anywhere.” 

His damn heart only hammered even more in return. He hadn’t even finished chewing when he forced himself to swallow the lump of food whole. His throat had been forced to stretch more than it was capable of, and once the food was down, he cringed from the discomfort. 

“Are you okay?” Seokmin leaned forward, analyzing his face for any trace of residual pain. 

Jeonghan nodded, his body overwhelmed by the rhythm set by Joshua’s hand, which was lightly stroking the curve of his spine. He wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with Seokmin in their presence. He stood, shrugged on his jacket, and pulled his book bag from the floor. 

“Sorry,” he sounded exasperated, tired, perhaps nervous, “I just realized I was supposed to meet up with someone from my next class to talk about an assignment.” He briefly glanced down at Joshua, stopping himself short of resting his hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have to wait for me, just head home when you’re done for the day.”

He didn’t give either of his friends even a second to think before maneuvering himself through the maze of people and out of the dining hall.

~

His class hadn’t been cancelled. 

Jeonghan was almost grateful that it hadn’t. However, he was two hours deep into lecture and his mind was racing with thoughts of Joshua. He almost hated how much power a single touch had over him; it pained him that this wasn’t the first time he had to forcibly remove himself from a situation because his feelings kicked into overdrive. What made his heart ache even more was that he knew Joshua. He knew him better than anyone else in this grand world; he knew his favorite food, his favorite music to listen to when he was sad, what he liked to drink when he was angry, all of the little things. But what he knew better than anyone else was that he would never stand a chance to be truly seen by him. At least not in the same way he saw him.

He sighed for the nth time, driving his hands into his raven black hair, lightly tugging at the roots to bring him back to reality. It had taken him a moment to realize that the people around him were packing their bags and leaving the classroom. Time seemed to move painfully slow as he closed his spiral notebook, throwing it and his pens into his backpack. 

When he stood and turned to head for the door, he was so catastrophically hypnotized by his worries he almost didn’t see Joshua standing in the threshold of the door. Smiling. Waiting for him.

It was like his feet had been glued to the floor, his heart felt light and heavy, a raging sea of conflict washed over him, “Shua…”

His best friend lifted his hand, accompanied by a wider smile, by means of greeting, and that’s all it took for Jeonghan’s feet to gather the necessary freedom to move. 

“What are you doing here?” his voice low as they started to make their way out of the classroom building, “I thought I told you to go home.”

Joshua lightly shrugged as he looped his arm through his own, which was not an irregular display of friendship for either of them. Anyone in their friend group wouldn’t have paid any sort of attention to it. Amidst the many other ways they displayed their affections towards one another, it was just something they did. They were just Jeonghan and Joshua. Two halves of one much greater whole. Many of their friends agreed that the room didn’t feel the same when one of them was absent.

“I didn’t have anything better going on,” Joshua responded casually, “I thought I would wait around for you until your class got out so that we could go home together.” 

Jeonghan wanted to spit the most atrocious profanities to whatever force was keen on torturing him, but he managed to maintain that outward appearance of impenetrable calm. He desperately wanted to gather that man in his arms, not only to thank him for being a genuinely kind human being, but to never let him go either.

“Your classes ended hours ago,” Jeonghan sighed.

“It gave me some time to sit in the library to catch up on some work,” he shrugged again, “It’s really not that big of a deal. What’s got you so worked up?”

It wasn’t all that surprising that Joshua could see something was tearing him apart from the inside out. It came at a disadvantage that they attended the same school, thus Joshua was already aware that midterms were well done and over with, and finals wouldn’t start for another month and a half, so that excuse was no longer one to be seriously considered. He couldn’t bring himself to just say three simple words, even if it meant that his best friend had felt something astoundingly similar. Because once the words were out there were only two clear and viable paths in Jeonghan’s mind, and he was terrified to find out if he’d be walking one of them alone. 

The frigid air attacking him from all sides but his right as they stepped out from the building, and Joshua silently walked alongside him, patiently waiting for an answer.

“It’s nothing,” the white lie dripped from his lips as if it were easier than breathing.

They were half way down the steps when Joshua paused, a steam-filled puff of air cast a brief shadow as frustration grew in his features, “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what—”

Joshua unlocked his arm from his and took a single step back, “Don’t tell me that everything is alright when it’s not. I’m your best friend, Jeonghan...you’re supposed to be able to talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You’re full of shit, and you know it.”

A dry laugh escaped Jeonghan’s throat, “Think whatever you want, Shua—”

Taking a step closer, “You forget that we know one another better than the back of our own hands. It doesn’t take much for me to realize that something is going on with you. Even if you were the greatest actor of this generation, I would know, how could I not?”

And Jeonghan knew it too. He knew that Joshua could see right through any facade he attempted to build; even if he had built it slowly, brick-by-brick. Over time he would be able to spot the differences in his demeanor. They had known each other long enough to know better.

“All I’m asking is that you talk to me...don’t shut me out,” his best friend pleaded, “Please don’t let me feel helpless, let me be selfish for just this once, and  _ let me in _ .”

Something in Joshua’s words made Jeonghan feel like he was burning; whether it was his heart or his soul, or the core of his viscera, he was left wholly unsure. 

Jeonghan’s hands found their usual place in his pockets and blew out a hot breath, “Shua, I really appreciate your concern, I always have...but it’s really nothing. So, please, don’t worry too much.”

The frustration leached on Joshua’s face faltered into something that looked like anger, but not. He looked confused, perhaps conflicted, as if there were a whole world war commencing in his mind. Joshua bit his lip, his piercing gaze striking him through the heart, “How many times am I going to regret pushing your concerns away? If it’s really nothing...then why do I feel this way?”

The words were like a knife through the heart, but so much fear ran through his veins that he couldn’t even bring himself to move, let alone speak. This was not one of the paths that he imagined during one of his many sleepless nights. 

“You’re right…” Joshua caved, “I went home after you left, but I came all the way back here because I was worried about you and I didn’t want you to have to walk home by yourself. And I thought that maybe...just  _ maybe _ , even for a second, you would allow me to see into that mind of yours, so that I can better understand whatever it is that’s bothering you these days.”

“Shua—”

Jeonghan sighed, looking down at his feet, as a group of students, who were keen on staring, passed them by. It wasn’t until Joshua cleared his throat—the only sign he needed to know the students were gone—that he could taste the blood in his mouth. It was so cold that it took a moment to process that he had been biting down on his lip. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to keep his secrets locked away from the rest of the world, or perhaps it was his pride that told him now was not the time to cry. 

“Next time, I promise to do whatever you ask,” Joshua paused, “I won’t press you with further questions. I won’t come back to school to see you...but just for today, right now, just tell me what’s on your mind. Whatever you say to me right here, right now on these steps, I will act like I never heard about it. Just tell me... _ something _ . I can take it, you know I can.”

Joshua’s words were always a promise, even if he didn’t say it outright. Jeonghan has been able to trust him for as long as he can remember, and he knew that Joshua would be true to his word. He would forget anything he was about to say to him once tomorrow stretches across the horizon, but for whatever reason, he felt scared. What if he wanted Joshua to remember? What if he wanted to Joshua to recognize his feelings? It’s all he ever wanted; yet, the possibility of Joshua turning his back was always a looming threat, thus drowning out the what-ifs he longed for. 

Joshua cleared his throat again, “In return...please forget anything I tell you, as well. I am putting my full trust in you, so please put your trust in me.”

There was a very long pause, an agonizing silence that cocooned them, save for the cold winter breeze that passed between them. It was Joshua who spoke first—it always was. 

He took a deep breath, those rich brown eyes pouring into him. There was hope there, and perhaps fear...but above all, there was regret. 

With a shaky voice, “Jeonghan…” he averted his eyes, but only long enough to gather the confidence he’d lost, “I love you.”

The world seemed to slow until it stopped. Suddenly, it was eerily silent; it was no longer cold, and Jeonghan was very aware of his proximity to his best friend. 

_ I love you _ .

His best friend, the man he’d loved for so long now, loved him. 

Jeonghan felt like he had misunderstood. He took a deep breath and eyed the younger, “I mean, I love you too, Shua...we’ve been best friends for so long now that—”

“No, Jeonghan…” Joshua took another two steps closer, until he was just a single step above him, “ _ I love you _ .” 

He wasn’t sure when the tear had fallen, but he knew that Joshua had noticed, as he extended his hand to his face to wipe it away. Joshua let his hand linger as he softly stroked his cheek, and it was then that Jeonghan couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted his hand to Joshua’s neck and pulled him down until their lips met. 

It was a soft kiss, perhaps it was even a one sided kiss. Jeonghan didn’t care, Joshua promised he would forget it tomorrow. And then, after the shock had melted away, Joshua’s lips moved against his own. Over and over again, until their lips were red and raw and warm with the presence of each other. 

To his own surprise, it was Jeonghan who pulled away first. He needed to steady himself. Each of his senses had been overloaded with everything that belonged to Joshua. The touch of his thin, soft skin; the powdery smell of his shampoo; the taste of his lips on his own; the sound of their breaths intermingling with one another's; and the unbelievable sight of Joshua standing before him in their present reality—it hadn’t been a dream. He was here, and he was real. 

Joshua placed a hand on either side of his neck to help steady him, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but look at him. He saw Joshua every single day, knew all of his features better than his own, and yet looking at him now was like looking at a whole new person. Everything about him was beautiful and overwhelmingly captivating. He couldn’t stand to look away.

“Please,” Jeonghan begged, “Don’t let me remember this alone.”

A small hiccup of a laugh fell from Joshua’s lips, “Is this what you really want?”

Jeonghan let a hand rest on Joshua’s forearm. They were beacons of light; always trying to guide the other on a path towards home, but it wasn’t until now that they realized they were always trying to reach out for the other person. 

“You are all I’ve ever wanted.”


End file.
